The Greek's Runaway Bride

by Penny Jordan

  Silence!

  Chloe raised her head and looked across the room. Leon was still lying back against the cushions, his eyes closed, no sign of any reaction in his expression.

  Desperately she plunged on. ‘I know this isn’t the best time to bring this up, but I have to ask you. What do you intend to do about Marisa?’

  Still that unnerving silence.

  She forced herself to look across at him, and as she lifted her head she heard a soft thud, and looked up just in time to see his glass slipping from his fingers and falling to the floor.

  ‘Leon!’

  She was on her feet and at his side, bewilderment giving way to mild hysteria as the truth dawned. Leon had fallen fast asleep! As she looked at him tenderness overwhelmed her and it no longer mattered that he hadn’t heard or answered her question; that she didn’t know what the future held; nothing mattered but the overwhelming urge of love she felt for this man.

  She made him as comfortable as she could, and instructed the staff not to disturb him, simply placing a duvet from the bedroom over his recumbent body, and gently closing the door behind her as she stepped out into the hall.

  The phone ran several times during the evening—one of the calls was from the island, and Chloe assured Spiro that everything was under control. Several business acquaintances of Leon’s called enquiring about Marisa’s health. It was amazing how news travelled! And then about nine o’clock Madam Kriticos rang, but her concern was for Leon rather than his half-sister.

  ‘You have still not taken my advice, I see,’ she said to Chloe. ‘Get rid of her, my dear, otherwise you will find you’re nurturing a serpent in your bosom.’

  If only she could, Chloe reflected as she replaced the receiver, smiling wryly as she contemplated the desirability of a fairy godmother who could wave her wand and set matters right.

  At ten o’clock she returned to the drawing room to check on Leon. She was just bending over him, securing the duvet, when something alerted her to the fact that he was no longer asleep.

  ‘Very nice,’ he murmured drowsily with his lips against the base of her throat, ‘but what the hell am I doing sleeping here?’

  ‘You tell me,’ Chloe responded dryly. ‘Personally I put it down to exhaustion.’

  ‘Mmm, I thought you’d grown brave all of a sudden. Trying to take advantage of a defenceless man!’

  ‘I was not!’ Chloe retorted indignantly. ‘I was trying to make you comfortable. You were so tired….’

  ‘Too tired to get up and walk into the bedroom,’ Leon admitted ruefully, his eyes darkening suddenly as he added softly, ‘Too tired to even undress myself. Will you do it for me?’

  Chloe tried to control her reaction and failed, trembling betrayingly as Leon’s mouth slid moistly along her throat, his hands locking behind her back as he pulled her gently down on top of him.

  ‘Well?’ he drawled huskily between kisses. ‘Are you going to take pity on me and help me like a dutiful wife?’

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to.’ She deliberately kept her voice neutral, her lashes concealing her expression from him, but nothing could hide the eagerness in her fingers as they curled against the warm vee of flesh exposed by his open-necked shirt. She tried to imitate his own cool control, deliberately hesitating before unfastening the first button, but all pretence was forgotten as Leon reached for her urgently, his voice thickening with desire as he muttered unsteadily, ‘God, Chloe, I want you,’ into the smooth creaminess of her throat.

  After that there was no holding back. Chloe forgot where they were, what had happened, everything but the inciting warmth of Leon’s body, of his proximity, of his skin beneath her fingers and the urgent heat of his mouth as it claimed her own.

  She had made one soft protest initially, but Leon had laughed aside her suggestion that someone might intrude upon them, and because she had had as little desire as Leon to withdraw from their embrace she had let her objections die.

  ‘Oh, Chloe!’

  She could feel the urgent pressure of his thigh muscles, the ragged uneven rasping of his breath, her body clamouring as passionately for fulfilment as did his. She was lost, drowning in a warm, bottomless well of pleasure, soaring mindlessly towards the clouds, her body already anticipating the exquisite moments of fulfilment.

  ‘… Leon!’ The interruption broke in upon their privacy.

  Above her Chloe was aware of Leon moving, of him cursing, and hurriedly covering her with the duvet which had been lying disregarded on the floor, and she sat up unsteadily, her eyes widening in disbelief as she saw Marisa standing framed in the door, her face white with pain as she surveyed the all too betraying evidence of what she had interrupted.

  ‘Leon, how could you?’ she demanded bitterly. ‘How could you be like this with her when I needed you?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Marisa….’ Chloe heard Leon begin tetchily, the tone of his voice sharpening to concern as Marisa turned, and fled. ‘Marisa, wait!’

  Chloe sat like a frozen marble statue as Leon pulled on his shirt and pants. She heard a bedroom door slam and guessed that it was Marisa’s, although what the girl was doing out of hospital she could not imagine. She longed for Leon to speak to her, to offer her some words of tenderness and comfort; ridiculously, she felt like the ‘other woman’ caught out in some sordid, furtive lovemaking with someone else’s husband, the shock of Marisa’s sudden interruption making her shake with an inward tension that could only have found relief in the protection of Leon’s arms. But that protection was not offered to her. Instead Leon pulled on his shoes and hurried after Marisa. To do what? Chloe wondered bitterly. To assure her that what she had inadvertently witnessed meant nothing?

  She was already in bed when Leon came into their room an hour later.

  ‘Is Marisa all right now?’ she asked politely, forcing herself to sound calm and unconcerned.

  ‘As far as I can tell. She discharged herself from hospital. She was on the verge of hysterics, so rather than force her to go back I telephoned Dr Livanos and got his sanction for her to stay here. God, I’m tired!’ He massaged the back of his neck with lean fingers, flexing his shoulders wearily.

  ‘Leon,’ Chloe began impulsively, ‘there’s something we have to talk about… Marisa….’

  ‘For God’s sake, not now. Tomorrow—we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Right now all I want to do is sleep.’

  And that was exactly what he did, while Chloe lay wide awake and tense at his side, wishing she knew what to believe. When she was in Leon’s arms, everything else paled into insignificance, but she couldn’t spend the rest of her life simply ignoring her own insecurity and fear.

  It was a long time before she slept.

  * * *

  When she woke up it was several seconds before she realised that she was alone. She groped blindly along the other side of the bed to check that she was right, and then as her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness she saw that Leon had thrown back the covers on his side when he had left her. She glanced at her watch. It was three o’clock in the morning. Some nameless dread made her clamber out of bed and walk towards the door, pushing it open like a sleepwalker.

  Without actively thinking what she was doing Chloe walked slowly down the corridor. A thin strip of light showed under Marisa’s bedroom door, and Chloe could hear the muted sound of voices from within. Like someone in the grip of a nightmare she turned the handle and opened the door.

  Marisa was clasped in Leon’s arms, the voluptuous curves of her body plainly visible in the soft light of the bedside lamp. Leon was sitting on her bed, his back to the door, his skin gilded to bronze by the lamp.

  A terrible sickness seized Chloe by the throat, faintness overwhelming her as she clutched the door for support.

  ‘Promise me you’ll always love me, Leon,’ she heard Marisa beg passionately. ‘Promise me you’ll send her away. I can’t bear it if you don’t. I want it to be like it used to be, just the two of us….’

  Leon’s r
eply was lost as Marisa pressed her body wantonly against him, the full red lips against his cheek. Chloe didn’t wait to hear any more. Somehow she managed to make her way back to her bedroom, the nausea which overwhelmed her in the bathroom leaving her drained and shaken.

  What a fool she had been! What a stupid, romantic fool! Marisa had already told her why Leon wanted her back—because he wanted a son—but she had refused to believe it, had woven romantic illusions around herself, and if she was trapped within them now she had no one but herself to blame. Although she waited dry-eyed with an aching heart, Leon did not return, and when dawn crept palely over the sky, Chloe acknowledged at last that she had lost. No matter what degree of desire he might feel for her, Leon was not prepared to give up Marisa. The only question to remain was, did she have the stamina to endure that knowledge, year after year, watching her children grow up in the shadow of that tainted relationship, waiting for Marisa to try to destroy them as she had destroyed that other, unborn child? She knew the answer.

  Leon unwittingly made it easier for her. He was in the dining room drinking coffee when she walked in, his hair damp from a recent shower, a business suit giving him an urbane look of sophistication.

  He replaced his coffee cup as Chloe sat down, studying her pale face briefly for a few seconds before saying casually:

  ‘I have business which will take me out for most of the day. Will whatever it was you wanted to speak to me about last night wait until I return?’

  Chloe suppressed hysterical laughter. She had almost forgotten that! And of course she had her answer. Leon was scanning the headlines of a newspaper lying on the table, as though her reply mattered little to him either way. That knowledge lent her courage.

  ‘No, I’m afraid it won’t,’ she said with a coolness to match his own. ‘I’m sorry, Leon, but I’ve decided I can’t stay with you. Oh, I realise what I’ll be giving up…. But I realise as well that I can’t compromise. Without love—real love, not merely passion or desire—I just can’t see it working, and neither do I feel that it would be fair to subject children to the sort of relationship we would have.’

  For a moment Leon was silent. While she spoke he had been folding his newspaper, sharpening the creases with his thumb, now he put it aside and looked directly at her.

  ‘If that’s the way you feel….’

  ‘It is. And I won’t change my mind—under any circumstances!’

  ‘Very well. I can see no point in prolonging matters. I’ll check on the time of the first available flight to London, and book you a seat on it. Getting a divorce will of course be complicated by the fact that to all intents and purposes we have been “reconciled” for these last few weeks, and there’s bound to be some element of delay. However, as soon as it can be arranged I promise you that I shall set you free.’

  Free! Chloe bit back a protest, tempted even now to fling herself into his arms, to break through the polite mask of his features and plead with him to take her and keep her and to hell with the consequences. But of course she didn’t. The British reticence Leon had mocked so often in the past restrained her, and she didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry when he rose from the table, indicating that the conversation was over, the decision irreversibly made!

  She was in her bedroom, trying to pack only what was absolutely essential, when Marisa walked in. The other girl looked pale but triumphant, her eyes going immediately to the open suitcase.

  ‘You’re leaving! Not before time! Leon might have desired you, but it is me he loves; I who will always come first,’ she announced shrilly, her voice rising on the last words. ‘He spent last night with me, coming from your cold embraces to the warmth of my bed. I can give him what you never can. I understand him. We share the same blood.’ She laughed wildly as Chloe paled, her lips curling with contempt. ‘It offends you when I talk of our close relationship, does it not? Leon does not find it offensive,’ she said softly. ‘Ask him!’

  * * *

  Since Leon had already confirmed that he had booked her a seat on the early afternoon flight to Heathrow, there remained only one small task for Chloe to accomplish, and this she did before finally leaving her room. She took the pearls Leon had given her and placed them in the drawer of the dressing table, tears blurring her eyes as she remembered with what joy she had worn them.

  To her surprise Leon himself insisted on driving her to the airport. To make sure she actually left? she couldn’t help asking herself cynically.

  They drove to the airport in silence. Leon parked the car outside the main entrance and leaned across to open the passenger door. Chloe shrank back instinctively, puzzled by the look of intense bitterness darkening his eyes as he saw the gesture.

  ‘Goodbye, Chloe,’ he said tersely as he handed her her ticket and case. ‘You will understand, I think, if I do not make the conventional gesture of wishing you well.’ He bent suddenly, possessing her mouth in a hard, punishing kiss, and then abruptly straightened, turning on his heel and leaving her alone in the busy airport lounge.

  She managed to stay dry-eyed until the plane took off. A stewardess, noting her averted profile and catching sight of her reflection in the window, tactfully left her alone, and as there was no one occupying the adjacent seats there was no one to witness the tears coursing painfully down her cheeks, as she wept for the impossibility of her dreams ever coming true, while her heart ached for the man she had left behind.

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT was late autumn and there was a distinct chill in the air. Chloe was just emerging from Harrods, where she had been on a fruitless errand for her employer who had wanted a particular brand of French silk tights.

  There was a suspicion of frost in the air; early would-be Christmas shoppers milled by the doors. Chloe sighed and glanced at her watch. Louise would be wondering what had happened to her, she had been gone over an hour. As she turned Chloe collided with a woman wearing a full-length mink. They both started to apologise at the same time, Chloe’s face registering astonishment as she recognised Madam Kriticos.

  The recognition was mutual.

  ‘Chloe!’ the older woman exclaimed, catching hold of the sleeve of Chloe’s tweed coat. ‘My dear, what a surprise! Are you in a hurry? I was just on my way to Fortnum’s to rest my feet and enjoy a cup of their tea and one of their delicious pastries. Please join me.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m working for a novelist at the moment, and I’m already late….’

  ‘Working? But surely….’

  ‘I enjoy it,’ Chloe said quickly, not wanting to tell the other woman that since her return from Greece she had never touched the money Leon sent her every month. Her tiny bedsitter, her clothes, her food, were all paid for out of the salary she earned working for Louise Simmonds. ‘And Louise is marvellous to work for.’

  ‘Very well then, if you can’t join me now, you must dine with me later. We are staying at the Savoy and tonight my husband has a business dinner, so you will be doing me a great favour if you will come.’

  She was wise enough not to comment on Chloe’s pale complexion and haunted eyes, and knowing that she had no valid reason for not accepting the second invitation, Chloe reluctantly agreed.

  ‘Good. Until eight o’clock this evening, then.’

  The mêlée by the door which had thrown them together swallowed up Madame Kriticos, leaving Chloe to cross the road alone, and look despairingly for a taxi to take her to her employer’s apartment in Belgravia.

  By the time she had managed to hail an empty taxi, Chloe was feeling both cross and tired, and wishing she had been able to produce a concrete reason for refusing Madame Kriticos’ invitation. She even toyed with the idea of telephoning the Savoy and leaving a message cancelling the arrangement, but stubborn pride refused to allow her to do something which might make her appear to be a coward.

  Louise was frowning over some reviews of her latest book when Chloe walked into her study, her greying hair elegantly styled to complement the faintly austere lines of her fac
e.

  ‘Just listen to this!’ she commanded derisively, flicking scarlet-tipped fingers against the page of a magazine, as she started to read. ‘“Louise Simmonds has once again produced an extremely polished product—a thriller as sophisticated and subtle as its author.” Polished! How dare he insult me like that! I sweated blood and guts over that book, and he knows it damn him.’

  Glancing over her employer’s shoulder to read the name at the bottom of the page, Chloe suppressed a faint smile. Maxwell Gordon and Louise were old friends and adversaries.

  ‘He also said it was sophisticated and subtle,’ she pointed out, ‘and you know as well as I do that if he’d praised you to the heavens you would still have found something to niggle about.’

  ‘The trouble with you, my girl,’ Louise commented wryly, placing the magazine on her desk, ‘is that in two short months you’ve got to know me far too well. Far better, in fact, than I know you. That wedding ring, for instance…. You always wear it, and yet I’ve never once heard you mention a husband.’

  ‘Because there is nothing to mention,’ Chloe said brittlely.

  ‘No?’ Louise raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. ‘Well, it’s your life, Chloe. Now don’t prim up on me,’ she coaxed. ‘You know what I’m like whenever I sense a mystery, and I sense one within you, Chloe, but I do respect your very natural desire to keep your private life, my dear,’ she added gently. ‘It’s just that sometimes I look up and see you looking through that window, and I know you’re miles away.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m also sorry to have to tell you that I wasn’t able to get your stockings.’

  ‘Damn!’ Louise swore pungently. ‘I’m dining with Geoffrey Lewis tonight—I pointed him out to you at that P.R. do last week. He could be interested in buying the rights of Lie or Die for a film. I could do with the money right now,’ she added frankly, and Chloe, knowing that her employer had twin teenage sons currently attending an expensive public school, guessed that this was the reason why. Louise was a widow, but far from helpless, having carved out a career for herself in one of the toughest businesses in the world, and there was nothing she would not do for her two sons.